Portraits and Pictures Past and Present
by BatmansBabe
Summary: Harry talks to Snape about a set of pictures that have been lying in his Aunt Petunia's attic for thirty years. SSLE Post DH


Disclaimer: As always, I am not so fortunate as to own anything remotely involving this story. I do own all seven Harry Potter novels, as well as a set or two of the DVD's…but that is all.

_**Portraits and Pictures Past and Present**_

Harry glanced up as he heard movement in the painting just to the right of the door, to find Severus Snape brushing past a tall set of bushes. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, glancing around the painting's setting and noting the lack of subject in it.

Harry smiled. "Down in the living room in that awful painting Ginny had to have." When Snape seemed not to know what to say to that, Harry elaborated. "Watching the telly with James and Rose."

Harry expected the elder Severus to go off in search of his younger counterpart and the companion of the painting he had commissioned in tandem with the Headmaster portrait, but instead Snape took a careful seat near the river, his hand sifting through a handful of grass.

"Your godson has been acting up again."

Harry frowned. It never ceased to amaze him the number of times Snape told him this. "What's he done now?"

Severus glowered. "Nothing that can be proven, as usual, but Peeves swears to the Bloody Baron he hasn't taught the suits of armor to jump out at anyone passing by. Neither Longbottom or Gibbons can undo the charm without being attacked and serenaded."

Harry tried not to smile too much, and made a note to have a talk with George about fueling Teddy's ideas.

"You're only upset because he didn't get caught," Harry teased, imagining the look on Snape's face as he watched Neville being attacked and sung to by normally stationary armor. "I'm sure you sit in the Headmaster's Office all day thinking up creative new detentions to suggest when any of the Potter's or Weasley's get to Hogwarts."

"You think I've nothing better to do than ponder ways to punish your children?" Though he sounded completely sincere in his scoff, there was a glint in his eye that let Harry know he wasn't off the mark.

They were quiet a few moments. Harry glanced at the photo that had been lying on his desk for three weeks, then back up at Snape. "There's obviously something else. My small talk is exemplary, but you've never been one for idle chit-chat."

Snape rolled his eyes. "It's the sighing."

"The sighing."

You're driving me up a wall. For three weeks, every time you've been in here, you've been _sighing_ constantly, and I'd like you to stop before I do something drastic."

"What, like go on a mad killing streak? I'm fairly certain it's impossible to murder a portrait."

Snape glared at him. "What is it that's making you completely _moony_?"

Harry frowned, then reached for the picture he'd found in a shoebox in the attic of Number Four Privet Drive. He held it up for Severus to see, and watched as Snape caught his breath.

It was a Muggle picture, unmoving, and Harry could only assume it had been taken by his grandmother. Severus and Lily looked to be thirteen or fourteen, and were sitting on the lawn, books open around them, a plate of half-eaten sandwiches between them. Severus had his head bent low over a book, a quill poised above a length of parchment that was already half-way finished. Lily, lying on her stomach, had her head in her hands, elbows flat against the ground, and her face was tilted downward. Her eyes, however, were on Snape, studying him closely and covertly.

Harry had, for years, assumed that Lily considered Severus a close friend – the best of friends – and nothing else. Until three weeks ago, he'd never had any reason to believe otherwise, but Dudley had unearthed the box full of pictures, most of them with a variation of Severus, Lily, and Petunia in them, and this was only one of the many that made Harry doubt his previous postulation.

When he glanced up at Severus again, he was still staring at the picture with rapt attention, and only seemed to snap out of his own thoughts when Harry spoke. "Have you ever wondered…?" He didn't finish the sentence, not sure exactly what his question was.

"Yes."

Harry's head shot up again as he set the picture down.

"What do you think _I _saw in the Mirror of Erised?"

Harry let out a puff of breath. "Oh."

They went back to silence.

"Do you think…?" He ran a hand through his hair. "If things had turned out differently, in fifth year, do you think you'd have ever plucked up the courage to ask her out."

"What makes you think she would have said yes?"

Harry held up the picture. "I've got thirty more just like this one. I've seen what a person looks like when they're enamored, and my mum was _definitely_ waiting for you to snog the hell out of her."

Harry thought he saw a faint blush bloom across Snape's cheeks, and found himself unable to fight the urge to see if he could deepen it.

"You could have been my father."

Snape snorted. "Oh yes, I'm sure you would have enjoyed that. You'd have had better vision and greasier hair, and a rather more biting tongue."

Harry shrugged. "Wouldn't have known the difference, would I?" He studied the photo again. "Maybe you wouldn't have been such a miserable bat if you'd been a father. Or at least snogged my mum."

"I did."

Harry's gaze shot up again.

"Once. Well, she kissed me."

When he didn't explain, Harry nodded his head. "And…?"

"It was only in our third year. On a Hogsmeade trip. Your…father had been teasing her about going with me. Said something about her always taking pity on…well." He shook his head. "So she kissed me. To prove a point, of course, and annoy the hell out of James Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes at Severus, and rifled through a few pictures until he found another one, this one of "Tuney, Lily and Sev" taken during Christmas their third year. It was at Lily's home, and Petunia, Lily and Severus were all sitting around the Christmas tree. Petunia sat off to the side, watching her sister and Severus with a mixture of anxiety and jealousy, and Lily had a book by her side and an open box in her lap, and she was reached forward to hug Severus, looking for all the world like she'd just gotten the best present she'd ever been given.

He held the picture up to show his guest. "To prove a point, or to grab an opportunity she wouldn't have again?"

Snape sighed softly. "Don't you think I regret all this enough already?"

Harry's shoulder's drooped. "I just…you made her happy. And the only time I've ever seen my father or heard her talk about him…"

"He did make her happy. He…grew up. I changed. I didn't make her happy anymore, and your father changed as well. Your mother…she was happy."

Harry nodded. They drifted into their own thoughts for a while, and Harry gave a start when Snape stood up. "I ruined your visit, I suppose," Harry said.

Severus didn't answer the question. "I'm just going to go visit your heathens before I go."

Harry nodded.

Snape moved toward the edge of the painting, but stopped short. "Harry?"

"Mm?" he gave as a reply, tilting his head up.

"I would have liked it."

"What?"

"Being a father." And with that, he moved out of the painting. Harry stared after him for a long time, then back down at the pictures littering his desk.

Lily and Severus smiled up at him from the picture, Lily's arm secure around Snape's shoulders, Severus' tight at her waist, leaning into each other. Lily had her prefect's badge pinned to her sweater, and they were standing just a few feet to the left of the barrier between platforms nine and ten. It was the only moving picture in the entire bunch, and as he watched, Lily leaned further into Severus, eyes turning up to look at him, glittering in something close to adoration. Severus caught her gaze and her cheeks tinged pink as he brought a hand up to brush a lock of hair out of her eyes.

He hadn't shown Snape the picture, partly for selfish reasons, and partly because, just off to the side, James Potter was watching them, his expression slightly pained, the look in his eyes a familiar one of jealousy.


End file.
